


A Test of Restraint

by Anonymous



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Desperation, Gen, Human Experimentation, Omorashi, Restraints, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's going to be closer than he'd like. Reyes tenses his thighs and pushes his head back against the chair, trying to think of anything besides the overfull ache of his bladder or the shivers racing up his spine in quickening intervals. He can’t trick himself into relaxing, can’t focus on anything else.All that comes to mind is the SEP program: hours spent just like this, being injected with god only knows what, strapped down and monitored like a rat in a cage.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Kudos: 32
Collections: Anonymous





	A Test of Restraint

He breathes out a bit harder than he means to and bounces his foot, willing the urge to pass. His bladder sits heavy and full in the cradle of his pelvis and Gabe tries to brace himself for an uncomfortable few hours. Whatever Moira's trying on him this time is starting to make him feel lightheaded, a bit shaky. He tests the restraints without reason, pulling his wrists against the metal until they ache.

It helps him focus, but it's not like he has anything to do besides sit there and feel his bladder fill past the point of discomfort. He takes a deep breath, bounces his knee, tries to think about anything other than how badly he needs to take a leak. Sweat trickles down the small of his back and beads along his hairline.

He rests his head back and watches her work - moving from one machine to the next, occasionally making a note on her clipboard - smooth, steady movements like it's a dance she's done a thousand times. Moira never looks up to meet his gaze, but Gabe knows she can track it.

It's not quite distraction enough, but for the time being he can let the growing ache bleed into all of the other discomforts: dizzying flashes of hot and cold at irregular intervals, his sweats going damp with sweat and back sticking to the leather chair, muscles beginning to burn like he's pushed them too far for more than one day in a row.

"Hmm," Moira says to herself and then comes close enough to place an ice-cold hand against Reyes' forehead. He shivers, bladder tensing almost painfully, and Moira frowns down at him for a moment longer. Long enough that it's a fight to keep his hips from twitching with the need to relieve the pressure.

"Your hands are freezing," he complains, trying to keep her attention elsewhere. "Did you have to skip _every_ lecture on bedside manner?"

"I had better things to do," Moira assures him, dryly amused. "Now do me a favor and let me know if you think you'll pass out."

“Noted.”

\---

He shifts as much as he's able, clenching and unclenching his fists in their restraints. The way his muscles burn isn't helping - the pulsing electrical current making his body ache and tingle in equal measure, threatening his control - and the steady drip of saline to his left from one of multiple IVs Moira has set up doesn't help either.

"Please remain still," Moira reminds him, frowning at one of the monitors. She bends over to adjust one of the sensors on Gabriel's chest and the scrape of her nails is more than enough to give him chills. He grits his teeth and tenses his thighs to try to compensate. "Are you in pain?"

Gabe bites down on his lip before he can swear.

He groans instead. "Just need a piss." There's no use pretending otherwise, but he feels feverish with the admission, cold racing across his overheated skin. "I can handle it."

Moira raises a dispassionate eyebrow. Then she glances towards his crotch, where Reyes can't bring himself to unclench his thighs. He breathes through his teeth, trying to fight back the latest wave of desperation. He knows what a sight he must make, flushed and sweating and trying his damnedest not to piss himself, but if he could do anything about that, he wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with.

"Do attempt to control yourself until the treatment has run its course."

"Thanks for the advice," Reyes snarks back - as if he wasn't doing as much already - too uncomfortable to feel appropriately rude for it.

\---

It's going to be closer than he'd like. Reyes tenses his thighs and pushes his head back against the chair, trying to think of anything besides the overfull ache of his bladder or the shivers racing up his spine in quickening intervals. He can’t trick himself into relaxing, can’t focus on anything else.

All that comes to mind is the SEP program: hours spent just like this, being injected with god only knows what, strapped down and monitored like a rat in a cage.

All that comes to mind is how badly he has to take a leak and with it, the first twinge of doubt. What if he can't… Gabe tests the restraints again, tugging at them restlessly. If he could just, if he just had a hand free -

The panic isn’t helping. Sudden, sharp need rolls over him in a wave, a pressure that almost makes it hard to breathe. The noise he makes probably comes close to a whimper.

"Is everything alright?" Damn her. Moira's eyes are sharp, a twitch at the corner of her mouth as though she's amused by his predicament.

Gabe alternates tapping his toes with clenching his fists, blunt nails digging into his palms. He can’t hold still; can’t pretend otherwise. "Fine and dandy."

He groans again. Breathes through his teeth. Yanks his wrists against the unyielding metal and fucking _squirms_ in place. He’s sore all over, bladder throbbing painfully - it barely takes the edge off, but that’s all he can do. The fact that Moira’s watching barely registers; he’s too fucking desperate to stop himself if he wanted to.

"Are you this vocal during intercourse?"

"You want to find out?" he snaps.

To Reyes' surprise, her scrutiny turns appraising, gaze lingering too long to be mistaken for professional curiosity. "Perhaps another time."

He breathes out again, quick and shaky. Tries to consider that in a way that puts this into perspective, or at least takes his mind off of how badly he has to take a leak. But his muscles ache to the point of pain and the feverish weight to his body makes it far too hard to focus. "Distract me."

Moira lifts an eyebrow. “In case it slipped your notice, I’m working.”

“I forgot how helpful you are,” Reyes snipes back, too tense to put any real heat into it. The bickering is a familiar routine, but even that’s not helping much. He shifts again, trying in vain to find a way to ease the pressure. “Fuck, I haven’t had to piss this bad in years.”

“By all means, keep complaining,” Moira assures him, utterly lacking in concern. She does reach out to turn the IV down and gives Gabe another once-over, but evidently _she’s_ satisfied by what she sees. “That’ll speed things up.”

\---

He can barely focus on the pain or the heat or the tacky slide of his skin against the leather chair. His bladder is a pulsing, throbbing ache - not a moment's respite left to be had. He can feel how close he is to losing control, and right as the thought occurs, he does, a bit, leaking into his briefs enough that a moment later he can feel the wetness seeping all the way down the length of his cock. Gabe glances down furtively, praying that he won't see it soak through his sweats. "I need a break," he gasps, smacking his hand against the arm of the chair to indicate that he's tapping out with what little leverage he can manage. His wrists are already bruised from struggling against the restraints, but it doesn't matter. He needs to go _now_. "Moira-"

She pinches the bridge of her nose as if thinking, and Gabriel doesn't know if he could be certain of anything but how badly he needs to piss, but he thinks he sees the smallest flash of sympathy cross her face. His stomach twists in a reactionary panic.

"It's too late to stop the process," she explains. "Are you,"

"It can't wait," he chokes, not waiting for whatever question Moira might see fit to ask, " _fuck_." He yanks his arms back against the restraints. If he can break them -

Little by little Gabe can feel the warm, wet patch of fabric blooming against his skin, and then the inside of his thighs start to grow damp. As hard as he's clenched up it's of no use. He can't stop shivering, fidgeting in place. He's about to lose his goddamn mind, but he can't bring himself to admit defeat either. "I can't-" He glances down again - and it's bad, a nearly fist-sized splotch of dark grey on his sweatpants atop where the head of his cock is trapped in his briefs.

He can't help groaning again, screwing his eyes shut and focusing everything he has on trying to stop the steadily growing spurt. "Fuck, _please_ -"

Even as he says it Reyes knows it's useless. "Your heart rate is far too high," Moira advises, unhelpful as ever.

"Not. Helping," Gabe snarls.

She’s moved back to one of the machines, adjusting something he can’t see. “Get it under control, commander.”

Gabe forces out a deep, shaky breath from between his teeth, knees jammed together so hard the bones grind against each other. Liquid heat trickles down the cleft of his ass and starts to puddle beneath him.

“Heart rate,” Moira reminds him. A moment later he hears the unmistakable drip of fluid spilling onto the lab floor and he swears, but there’s no recourse. His muscles can’t clench up any tighter. Can’t get his hands free. He grasps the armrests he’s shackled to, holding onto them so hard his knuckles ache. The tops of his thighs rub against each other, warm and wet, as he squirms again.

His sweatpants can’t soak up the growing stream fast enough. Gabe feels himself flush all the way down his chest, but he can’t keep the strangled moan off his lips at the sudden relief as his muscles finally fail him altogether. It’s as though his entire pelvic floor has dropped out from underneath him: nothing left to grasp at, just the sudden rush of his bladder emptying itself and heartbeat thundering away in his ears. The knowledge that Moira is right there _watching_ as he pisses himself in the middle of her lab is mortifying, no matter how cavalier their relationship might be.

Gabe swears under his breath, too wrung out to attempt to regain control even as the flow finally slows to a trickle. His muscles are trembling, sweatpants drenched past his knees and clinging uncomfortably, and he shuts his eyes again as his bladder finally finishes emptying at last. The continuing patter of liquid puddling on the floor beneath him is the only sound over the background noise of the laboratory, the sharp tang of urine making itself unmistakable over the sterile disinfectants.

“Feeling better?”

He’s exhausted in a way he’s rarely felt since SEP. “My pride sure isn’t,” Gabe says, trying to head off the embarrassment creeping back up into his chest. The wet fabric is cooling rapidly against his skin and he’s back to shivering again, deep muscle aches making themselves known with a vengeance now that he’s no longer otherwise occupied. She's not going to let him live this down anytime soon; that, Gabe's sure of.

Moira laughs, still tapping away on a holo-pad distractedly. “Should I be prepared to remind you to relieve yourself before our next session, or do you think once will suffice?”


End file.
